


Second First Date

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9716996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

Spencer walked out of the bedroom in his pajamas; you were supposed to be going out to dinner in less than 10 minutes. What was he doing? After three years together (a year and a half of which you had lived together), maybe he’d just forgotten. “Aren’t we going to dinner?” you asked, watching as Spencer walked over to the refrigerator. 

“I actually had something completely different in mind,” he said with a small smile, “I just didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” When he opened the refrigerator, you saw chicken, green onions, lemon juice, parsley, garlic…

“Is that the ingredients for…?”

“The lemon chicken spaghetti we had on our first date,” he replied. “I figured after three years, I wanted to show you that I still remember every detail of our first date.” He looked down at his white t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. “I actually do remember what I was wearing, but I wanted to be comfortable.”

When you walked into the kitchen, you thought back to when Spencer first showed up at your apartment three years ago. Since then, you’d moved in together. “I was wearing dark wash jeans, which have since developed a hole, so I had to throw them out. I was also wearing a dark green t-shirt and a black blazer on top.” You remembered - the outfit on top of the fluffy hair on his head.

“Do you remember what I was wearing?” you asked, pressing your lips to his. Back then he tasted like strawberry chapstick, now he tasted like Spencer. It was a delicious taste you’d become accustomed to over your years together.

Slowly, you swayed back and forth in the middle of the kitchen while Spencer nibbled at the spot beneath your ear - the one that always had you panting and pleading for him. “I do. You were wearing black jeans, those black leather boots that you wore in bed that one time, specifically because I liked the way they looked on you on our first date and I wondered what it would be like if you were only wearing them.”

That had been a fun night. You’d felt so amazingly dirty and he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. 

“You were also wearing a flowing purple halter top, which I believe you left at the cabin we went to for our first anniversary.” He really did remember everything. You were insanely lucky to have met a guy like him. 

“I was,” you replied, standing on your toes to kiss him again. “We were supposed to go out to dinner. Just like tonight, but we had a torrential downpour so we decided to stay at my old place and make dinner with whatever we could find in my refrigerator. That ended up being lemon chicken spaghetti. I made it. You wanna make it together tonight?”

“That’s definitely the plan,” he muttered against your neck. Over the 10 minutes, you both chopped up onions, parsley and garlic and sautéed it with oil and butter. 

“This smells amazing,” you said, putting the chicken into the pan while Spencer boiled some water for the spaghetti. As you inhaled, the delicious smells brought back the feelings you had when you’d first been shut in together by the rain. You thought it must’ve been to good to be true - he must’ve been too good to be true. But three years down the road, you knew he wasn’t. He was just as amazing then as he was now. 

Once the food was ready, Spencer prepared the plates. You could practically see the overlay of your first date and now. He was standing in nearly the same place, making the same food, smiling the same smile.

“God, that was delicious,” you muttered later on, swallowing the last bite of chicken. “So what did we do after dinner?”

By your hand, he pulled you up from the table and took your mouth in his. “I believe the ran was so awful that the power went out, so we ended up on the couch and I read you some of my favorite passages from Wuthering Heights by candlelight.”

It had been the most romantic experience you’d ever had, and certainly your most romantic first date ever. “So are you gonna read to me again?” you wondered, burying your head in his chest.

“Definitely, but I think the end of the date might end a little differently than our first date,” he said gathering you to him as he walked you toward the couch.

You nearly started to cry as he turned the lights down in the apartment and lit a couple of candles. “How’s this one going to end?”

“In bed, rather than cuddling on the couch,” he laughed against your neck as he picked up the book from off the floor. “I have other plans that don’t reflect our first date.”

“Fantastic.” You could only imagine what he had in mind, but first, first you wanted him to read to you. You loved listening to his voice - so smooth and genuine. “You’re gonna read to me first, right?”

“Of course. Lean back,” he instructed, placing the book in front of you both so he could read it. “I’ll read some passages I like instead of the whole story.” As he began to read, you sunk into him, allowing his voice to wash over you. “My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”


End file.
